


Salvage (2019)

by HBossWrites



Series: Rewriting Horror Movies for Practice and Fun! [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue, Salvage (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Movie, Character Death, but only kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-18 01:38:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HBossWrites/pseuds/HBossWrites
Summary: Charles Palomo is attacked by a Issac 'Felix' Gates, a dangerous man and known murderer. Charles is captured, beaten, brutalized, and murdered.And then he wakes up.Now he needs to learn who this man is and why he's being targeted with senseless violence that he can't stop.(This story is a retelling of the horror movie Salvage (2006).)





	1. Chapter 1

Salvage (2019)

Chapter 1

Volleyball popped her gum and handed Palomo a cup of coffee as she danced around him to get to the second register and started to count herself in for the day.

“Crazy night?”

Palomo blinked the exhaustion from his eyes, cursing the sun and the dawning of a new day. Yes, he knew it was dramatic, and no, he didn’t care.

Why he thought working the graveyard shift at the only gas station for thirty miles would be a good way to make some extra money, he had no idea. The place was deader than dead after ten at night, the owner was a cheapo who somehow got around actually having to pay minimum wage, and the place was super creepy at night. When he wasn’t doing homework, he was drinking gas station coffee in desperation to stay awake.

“Four customers,” he said as he tucked the last of his schoolwork into his bag. He’d agreed to philosophy of religion for his dad’s sake, but it was not making a lick of sense. He could feel himself slowly dying from boredom every day he made it to his college classes. Palomo wasn’t entirely convinced he’d survive until graduation at this rate.

“Wow,” she snarked as she made her way around the counter, “record breaking numbers. Anything exciting?”

“Had a mad rush of two whole people at three this morning, out of towners on their way to more fantastical destinations, but other than that? Pretty dead here.”

Palomo gulped back the gas station brew and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“Can you count me? I’ve gotta go! Katie’ll be waiting!”

Volleyball rolled her eyes and shooed him out the door, the way she always did when he had morning classes.

“This is why you don’t sign up for classes before noon if you don’t have to, Palomo! Say hi to Katie for me!”

“Will do! Goodnight!”

“Have a good morning, ya dork!

Palomo yanked off his work shirt, an oversized, ugly button up t-shirt that had belonged to the guy who worked at the gas station before him judging by the size and wear when he’d been given the uniforms, and shook out his casual shirt underneath.

Sure, Jensen was going to take him home to change before school, but he didn’t exactly want to look like he’d spent the night barely managing to stay awake at his crap paying job. He’d like to keep at least a little dignity.

Still, he couldn’t complain about the station too much. There weren’t many places a college student could get full time work (even if it was slightly illegal from the under the table, not quite minimum wage pay) and do homework instead of making burgers or doing heavy lifting. The lack of social life was the price he’d pay until he graduated and hopefully had enough saved for him and Jensen to get out of this place.

Jensen normally had the truck parked and waiting by the time he got to the corner, but there was no battered up truck across from the station. He grabbed his phone and checked, but there weren’t any messages appearing on his nokia (come on, Dad, wasn’t he hold enough for a big boy phone yet?) to let him know that it had given her trouble again. There wasn’t any reception either, which was just great.

The familiar unhappy rumble of Jensen’s problem child of a truck caught his ear as it rumbled down the road. Palomo grinned, waving a hand in excitement.

“There you are,” he hollered, not particularly caring that between the distance and the noise she couldn’t hear him, “I was starting to get worried!”

He ran up to the truck, slowing when he saw that it wasn’t Jensen in the cab. A weasely looking guy with brown hair and an undercut grinned at him and waved back.

“Hey, Charlie!”

“Um, who’re you?”

“I’m Felix! I work with Jensen at the salvage yard! She was neck deep in some POS car looking for parts, so she asked me to pick you up and get you to class.”

Palomo wasn’t sure about all this. He didn’t _look_ like someone who worked at the salvage yard. Jensen wore coveralls while she was on the job, with crappy jeans and old t-shirts under, this guy was wearing fancy looking jeans and an orange t-shirt that Palomo was pretty sure cost more than his textbooks. The biggest question to all of this was why would Jensen send someone else in her truck and not call his phone or the gas station?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but the curse of small towns in rural areas was a distinct lack of great cell reception, and his phone still gave him nothing.

“Hey,” Felix called, “We fixed her starter! It’s as good as new! See?”

The guy revved the engine, and Palomo couldn’t help but grin, that starter was Jensen’s greatest foe, constantly going out and being garbage no matter how often she fiddled with it or replaced it. It was nice to know that it was finally working right.

“Come on, Charlie, I’ve gotta get back. Do you want a ride to class or not?”

“Ok.”

He jogged over and slid into the passenger seat and put his backpack between the two of them, noting that the guy took up twice as much space as Jensen did despite being about as big around as she was. Palomo found himself pressed against the passenger door, not wanting to accidentally bump the strange man.

They drove in almost silence for a while, and Felix didn’t seem to need instructions on where to go. Palomo tried to keep his eyes on the road or the outside, but every now and again, he’d find himself drawn back to the other man. The more he looked, the more convinced he was that Felix didn’t look like the type to work at a salvage yard. Up close, his outfit was all designer looking, his nails were buffed, and he just looked like he was used to being clean all the time. Even Jensen had some grit and grease on her when she was working that lasted until she could get a proper scrub in.

They passed a cornfield on the side of the road where the stalks were long dead and dried, not an unusual sight, but one that made Palomo more than a little uneasy if he looked at it for too long.

“Mind if I turn on some music?”

He jumped and turned to Felix with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Music? Yes or no?”

“Oh, um, sure, whatever.”

Felix grinned and reached for the knobs.

“It’s mostly shit country music out here, but there’s one or two decent stations. Why the fuck anyone plays Johnny Cash anymore, I’ve got no clue.”

He searched, flipping through stations at lightning speed until he settled on what could have been a decent rock station except for the heavy static that said they were out of range. Still, it got Felix’s seal of approval, and they went back to their quiet drive.

“Ok, this is about where I forget the directions, wanna start pointing me the right way?”

“Ok.”

The truck hit a bump in the road and something in the bed of the truck bounced. It made an unsettling thump, so Palomo jerked around to look. Jensen’s truck didn’t have a tailgate, meaning any time she stored anything back there when he rode with her, Palomo was worried she’d lose something.

Her toolbox, a crowbar, an ax, and something big bundled under a blue tarp were all in the back, and it didn’t look like anything had fallen out. It was all pretty normal, though Palomo always got nervous when Jensen left her more dangerous tools where anyone could grab them.

“Sit! Jesus, do you want to get us pulled over?”

“Sorry.”

Palomo bounced his right leg.

“So, um, how do you know Katie?”

“We’re friends.”

Felix grinned and Palomo’s stomach twisted. Felix had to be almost _thirty_ at least, and he was friends with Jensen? Friends enough that she let him borrow her truck? Why didn’t Palomo know about him if they were such good friends? Why didn’t she tell him that she had grown up friends? All of their friends were fresh out of high school, college age.

Except for this guy, apparently.

“She’s a sweet kid, good at her job, doesn’t have any trouble kicking butt and taking names. She talks about you all the time.”

Palomo grinned.

“Really?”

“Yeah, can’t say I blame her, she’s pretty smitten with your dorkiness and your perky ass.”

Palomo winced and tugged his backpack a little closer.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“Come on, don’t be a fucking bitch, Charlie. Give us a smile. Bet you don’t get all twitchy and indignant like this when you’re fucking Jensen, do you? She’d have a real shit time in bed if you did.”

It was one thing for one of his friends to make jokes like that, he and Jensen had a long standing back and forth about the butts of their friends, but Palomo didn’t know Felix. Why did this guy think it ok for him to comment on Palomo’s body like that?

“Turn right, here. It’s the one with the pole in the yard.”

Something wasn’t right with this guy.

“Aww, don’t tell me I hurt your feelings?”

Palomo put his hand on the door handle as Felix rolled into the long driveway and slowed to a stop.

“How’s about I walk you to your door, Charlie? Wouldn’t want you to be late for school or anything like that.”

Palomo threw the truck door open and hopped out, bag clutched tight to his chest.

“No thanks. I’ll just get my dad to give me a ride.”

Palomo dashed out of the truck and raced into his house, slamming the door closed. He was not going to wait for Felix to follow.

“Dad?!”

There was no answer. Palomo wasn’t going to go back outside to check if his car was in the garage. At this time in the morning, he must have ducked out early. Samuel Ortez didn’t like being idle, and he didn’t appreciate it in his son either.

Palomo snatched up the ancient cordless phone and punched Jensen’s number in. It rang and rang before finally going to voicemail.

_This is Katie, leave a message or don’t expect a call back!_

“Hey, Katie, it’s me. Look, some weirdo picked me up in your truck and I’m really freaked out and I just want to make sure you’re not dead or something. Call me back, ok? I’m not going to class until I know you’re safe.”

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

Palomo whipped around and saw a shadow over the window in the front door. This wasn’t exactly a neighborhood where people randomly came over, the houses had huge yards and quite frankly, Palomo didn’t know any of his neighbors well enough for them to come over this early in the morning.

It had to be Felix.

And Palomo realized he’d forgotten to bolt the damned front door.

With a slow, shaky breath to steady himself, Palomo crept over to the door, keeping an eye on the incredibly still shadow blocking the window. Felix’s eye blinked at him through the clearest section of the patterned glass and Palomo flipped the deadbolt.

“You know I can see you through the door, don’t you Charlie? Come on, kiddo, there’s no stranger danger here. I just gave you a ride home.”

“What do you want?”

“Well, you left something in my truck, and I thought you’d want it back.”

“It’s Katie’s truck.”

“Whatever. Don’t you want it back?”

“What is it?”

“Your flash drive.”

Palomo patted his pockets and didn’t feel the familiar shape of his drive or his keychain it was attached to so he wouldn’t lose it. Felix dangled it in front of the clear glass, showing the glow in the dark sword before pulling it away and nearly pressing his face to the glass. That drive had his final paper on it. He’d been working on it for what felt like forever.

“I, I am _not_ opening the door!”

“Come on, Charlie, quit fucking around. Open up!”

Felix rattled the door, voice thick with anger as he did so, but the bolt held strong.

“No!”

The door rattling only lasted for a few seconds, but it was more than long enough to make Palomo wish he had something to defend himself with.

“Ok, fine. Tell you what, I’m gonna leave it right here on the mat, and you can just get it whenever, how does that sound?”

“Um,” Palomo tried to swallow back the thickness in his throat, “Th-that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Alright, that’s what I’m gonna do then, kiddo.”

Felix ran his hand down the glass of the door and stepped away from the window out of easy viewing range through the stylized glass.

“See ya soon.”

Palomo pressed himself against the door to watch as Felix walked backwards to the edge of the porch, dropped the flash drive almost a foot away from the welcome mat, and sauntered off toward the truck. He waited until he heard the truck start to put the chain across the door and open it a crack, watching the man drive away in Jensen’s truck.

He _literally_ did not care if Jensen and this guy were friends or not, Felix was creepy as _fuck_.

He thought about getting down and grabbing the flash drive without actually unchaining the door, but it was far enough that he didn’t think he’d be able to grab it easily and it seemed ridiculous to do that when Felix had driven off. Once he was sure that the truck was long gone Palomo threw the chain off quickly, snatched up the drive, dashed back into the house, and bolted the front door behind himself.

“Gah! Ok, I see why Dad says no rides from strangers, holy heck, I’m gonna be freaked out for a week!”

Palomo shoved the drive into his pocket. Was it too soon to give Jensen another call? That Felix guy could be going anywhere with her truck at this rate and if it was stolen, it was better to report it to Sherriff Church sooner than later.

He turned back into the kitchen to grab the phone when a beam of light hit him in the eye.

The back door was standing wide open.

Palomo felt his arms get heavy and for a split second, he thought he was about to wet himself. That door was _not_ open just a few minutes ago. He was sure of it. He’d have gone to the backyard and checked to see if his dad was outside if it had been.

He patted his pockets again and realized that he couldn’t feel his house keys.

“Oh no.”

He grabbed a kitchen chair, slammed the door shut, and shoved the chair underneath the knob, hoping that would be enough to keep it closed while he called the cops.

Palomo turned around to grab the phone, and Felix was standing at the top of the stairs to the basement, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a wide grin on his face. The man had a knife on his hip and evil on his face.

Felix pushed himself off the wall and held a finger to his lips while Palomo stood quaking in terror. He came right up to Palomo, that wide, shiny grin on his face, and patted his cheek.

“Good boy, Charlie. Try not to bleed on daddy’s kitchen floor, ok?”

The first punch was more a surprise than anything else, knocking Palomo off his feet and onto his back, leaving his head spinning as he was suddenly staring at the water stained ceiling.

Felix straddled Palomo’s chest, his grin nearly splitting his face in two as he slammed his fists into Palomo’s throat, eyes, and jaw. One. Two. One. Two. Over and over and over until Palomo felt bones break and teeth fall into his mouth. Blood poured into his throat and he couldn’t breathe.

Palomo jerked, kicking out, trying to shake the man off him or grab at his thighs, but for all that Felix was thin, he was strong.

Palomo felt dizzy.

He was choking on blood, drowning in it.

He must have bitten his tongue.

Where was his dad?

Felix stood up and gave him a swift kick in the side as he pulled the large knife from the sheath attached to his belt.

“Ngh, no.”

“What’d I say about bleeding on daddy’s floor? You’re not the brightest bulb in the box are you, Charlie?”

Felix stepped back long enough for Palomo to pull himself weakly to his front and spit some of the blood out. He could see the phone on the other side of the kitchen.

He started to crawl over to it, blood pouring out of his mouth like drool.

A hand wrapped around Palomo’s ankle and pulled.

“No!”

He tried to grip the floor, but he linoleum gave him no purchase, and Felix yanked him down the first steps of the basement.


	2. Chapter 2

Salvage (2019)

Chapter 2

Volleyball popped her gum and handed Palomo a cup of coffee as she danced around him to get to the second register and started to count herself in for the day.

“Crazy night?”

Palomo’s hands trembled as he pulled his drawer and handed it over to Volleyball. He shoved his things into his backpack.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.”

He started to pluck at the buttons on his shirt. Volleyball put a hand on Palomo’s forehead, frowning.

“You sure? You look like hell.”

Palomo grabbed his backpack and staggered out from around the counter and out the door. He could hear Volleyball behind him.

“Get some rest, ok?!”

Palomo stripped off the work shirt, staring down at his graphic tee as he did so.

His head felt fuzzy, like he’d woken up from a nightmare and his brain still wasn’t sure it was safe. He walked over to the meeting spot, but neither Jensen nor her truck were waiting. His hands shook as he slipped the backpack on, clutching the straps. What if it wasn’t a dream? What if it was a premonition?

The familiar roar of Jensen’s cranky project of a truck caught his attention and he jerked his head up. Jensen was driving. She stuck her hand out the window, her bright red bracelets catching the light as she waved enthusiastically. The core of tension bled out and he waved back.

She screeched to a stop right next to him, a wide grin on her face and joy on her cheeks as she brushed her windblown hair into some semblance of out of the way.

“Good morning, Charles!”

Her cheery voice and familiar lisp soothed something tight and pained in his chest. He smiled back at her.

“Morning, Katie.”

“Get in, silly! It’s time to take over the world! Or at least get you to class on time. Why did you choose the eight am class again?”

Palomo rushed to get into the truck and slid in, making sure to knock his shoulder into Jensen as he did so. She reached over and squeezed his wrist before she set them off down the road.

“Because I thought it would give me structure and I wanted to prove dad wrong about it being too much. It was stupid, and it’ll never happen again, I promise.”

“Eight in the morning is too early for ancient prose!”

He glanced out the back window and saw Jensen’s tools and a wadded up tarp laying flat underneath the toolbox in the back.

“You ok, Charles?”

“Huh?”

He turned around and yanked his seatbelt on.

“Yeah, fine. Forget about it.”

Jensen tossed him a worried look, but put the truck in drive and started down the road, the soft sounds of her latest band obsession playing through the tinny, staticy speakers.

“How was work? Did you get your homework done?”

“Work was ok, but…”

Should he say anything? It wasn’t exactly a secret.

“I must have fallen asleep. I had this really messed up dream.”

Jensen waggled her eyebrows.

“Was I in it?”

“Not that kind of messed up, Katie. Not a kinky dream, or if it is kinky, it’s not my kink.”

“Damn.”

“No, there was this guy. He had your truck, and he picked me up from work and took me home, but he broke in and he hurt me. I, Katie it was so bad. I felt _everything_.”

She reached over and squeezed Palomo’s hand, pouring as much reassurance as she could into him. He listed to the left as much as he could, trying to soak up her warmth, but with the seatbelt on she was just out of reach.

They drove in the quiet for a while before Jensen looked over and smiled reassuringly.

“So…I had a really weird dream, too.”

Palomo’s stomach twisted. On the one hand, Jensen having a dream about this guy would be validating, if terrifying. On the other hand, Jensen having had a dream about being murdered was a _terrible_ thing. Jensen didn’t need visions of horror in her head.

“Really?”

She grinned and squeezed his hand again before shifting gears.

“Yeah, so we’re at my place playing video games with the guys. Andersmith and Bitters are up on the bed and I’m on the floor with you and all of a sudden Bitters and Andersmith start making out.”

Palomo groaned and buried his face in his hands, hoping to hide from embarrassment.

Not the kind of dream he was expecting.

“Katie.”

“No, no, see, it’s ok, because then you go over and end up as the tiny filling in a Palomo sandwich!”

“Katie!”

“What? I’m just saying, it’d be hot.”

“ _Katie!_ ”

“It’s not like they wouldn’t take care of you, Andersmith is so gentle, and Bitters and Matthews are in an open relationship.”

“I don’t want to have sex with the only guy friends I’ve ever managed to keep! And why doesn’t Matthews factor into this weird orgy you’ve cooked up?”

“Because Bitters wouldn’t be nearly as focused on you if Matthews was there, keep up! Is that a no to the kinky sex party? Because I’m willing to go to the adult video store and buy some supplies from their back room.”

“ _KATIE!_ ”

Palomo screeched and shoved her shoulder, sending the truck veering. Jensen howled as she righted the truck in the lane.

“That’s not a no!”

They pulled up at Palomo’s house, Jensen giggling the whole way while Palomo fought with his incredibly warm face.

“I hate you.”

“I wouldn’t be here if you did!”

He swung the door open and kissed Jensen’s cheek, sending her into another giggle fit.

“Wanna come in?”

Jensen waggled her eyebrows again and Palomo snorted as he pointed at the car in the driveway.

“Dad’s here.”

“So, is that a no to kinky fun times?”

“My _dad_ is _home_.”

“That’s _not_ a _no_ , Charles!”

He jumped out of the truck and dashed inside, knowing that they had just enough time for him to fill their thermoses with coffee, grab bagels, and change his clothes before he had to be out the door again if he wanted to be on time for class and Jensen wanted to get to work on time.

He bolted into the kitchen and started throwing breakfast together.

“Charles?”

“Just me, Dad!”

The coffee pot was gurgling happily while he pulled the thermoses out of the dish washer, nearly finished with the vat of coffee the three of them needed to get through the morning. He lined the three thermoses up on the counter and started throwing bagels into the toaster oven.

“I’m making you a bagel!”

“And coffee?”

“And coffee!”

“Thank you, Charles.”

Palomo doctored the coffees and screwed on the lids. He sipped at his and slathered butter and cream cheese onto the bagels as soon as they were finished, sticking them into bags. He just needed to change and-

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Charles made his way to the front door and heard a jingle. He looked down.

His keys were on the floor.

Charles shoved the keys into his pocket, hands shaking, and looked at the front door. There was a shadow in the glass, but he couldn’t see much more from the angle. He had to lock the back door, he had to find his dad.

A hand settled on his shoulder.

Charles shrieked and flailed, spinning around, ready to fight.

“Dad? You scared the hell out of me!”

Locus raised an eyebrow and patted the top of his head.

“I did. Are you going to get the door, Charles?”

Locus stepped around Palomo and went for the door.

“Wait!”

He looked out the window and opened the door, but not before shooting a confused look at Palomo.

“Miss Jensen, a pleasure to see you, as always.”

“Howdy, Mr. Ortez. Love the coat! Green’s totally your color. I feel like I should be taking you out tonight!”

Locus gave her the barest hint of a smile.

Charles could feel his heart racing something horrible.

“I just came to see if Charles was about ready. We’re running behind and I need to get to work.”

He could skip the change if it meant getting out of there. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed their breakfasts.

“I’m ready, I just need to grab breakfast.”

“I’ll be in the truck!”

Locus shut the door behind her and frowned at Palomo.

“You’re late for class again? You know, Katherine is kind enough to pick you up from work, bring you home, and take you to school. You could be a little more considerate of her time. You could be more considerate of many things.”

“I-“

Locus scowled.

“I just want you to be responsible. You’re an adult, and yet you tear through this place like a child having a tantrum. I expect better of you, and I don’t enjoy being disappointed.”

Palomo gripped the thermoses and bag of bagels.

“I’m gonna be late.”

Locus stepped out of the way and motioned Palomo to the front door.

“I will see you after work. Please try to keep a decent schedule.”

He dashed out the door and saw Jensen idly drumming on the steering wheel with a pout on her face.

“Charles!” She leaned out the window and gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes, “Hey, will you push the truck?”

He groaned, handed her their breakfasts through the window, and tossed his backpack into the cab.

“Why do I have to push it?”

“Driver perks? You don’t have a driver’s license, how do you expect to clutch start a truck? Come on? Please? I’ll give you a big kiss!”

She planted a kiss on his cheek and made a loud _MWA_!

“Ok, ok.”

“Thank you!”

Palomo braced himself with one hand on the side of the truck and the other on the broken tailgate and pushed while Jensen revved the engine.

“Come on, Charles! Put some butt into it!”

“Very! Funny!”

They were almost at the end of Palomo’s very long driveway when the truck finally started and he was able to run and jump into the cab.

“Was that enough butt for you, Katie?”

“That was a _lot_ of butt!”

“And it’s all you’re getting until there’s a new starter in this truck.”

She shrugged.

“I guess I’ll just have to settle for dream orgies. Oh, the humanity.”

He hopped out of the cab at ten minutes past start time and dashed to class. He was pretty sure he’d done the reading the night before, but it was hard to remember. Dante was _really_ boring, and Professor Washington had these…sharp, piercing eyes that made Palomo forget everything. The man was terrifying.

Charles managed to slip quietly into a free desk in the middle of the room and get his book and notes out before the professor started calling on people to talk about the cantos in any depth. Once they’d gotten through the homework (and thank yesterday’s Palomo for remembering to take notes and spare today’s Palomo even more distress and humiliation), the professor broke out his own worn copy.

“I am sure you are all very familiar with this, so I’ll leave you here for the day. _Through me the way to the suffering city;_ ”

Palomo could feel himself nodding off. He looked to the windows that ran along the hallway and saw Jensen was waiting for him. She must have not had a lot to do at the yard.

_“Through me the everlasting pain;”_

She grinned and started swaying her hips side to side on the opposite side of the glass, taking off her jacket and dropping it to the floor as she moved.

_“Through me the way that runs among the Lost.”_

He pressed his fist to his mouth to try to keep the laughter in. She moved to her belt and started undoing the buckle as she pelvic thrusted at the window like a madwoman, like she was going to drop her pants right there in the hall and show off her boxers to the world. Was no one else seeing this? Katie was being comedy gold, dancing around on the other side of the glass, but no one was paying attention to her, they were all just staring listlessly to the front as Professor Washington read through the cantos.

_“Justice urged on my exalted Creator: Divine Power made me,”_

One of the other students was staring hard at Professor Washington and stretched forward over her desk.

_“The Supreme Wisdom”_

As she moved, something poked through the back of her shirt.

_“and the Primal Love.”_

Several somethings. All in a line.

_“Nothing was made before me but eternal things.”_

It looked like her spine was…spikey?

_“And I endure eternally._ ”

Professor Washington turned to write on the board, likely for dramatic effect.

_“Abandon all hope - You Who Enter Here.”_

As he wrote the final ‘H’, the chalk filled the room with a deafening scratching noise. Palomo grabbed his ears and by the time he thought to look back at the other student, he couldn’t see anything.

“Sorry about that, but now that we’re all paying attention again, we’ll have a quiz next session. Hopefully, you’ve all paid attention in class, since something tells me that you’re not doing the readings at home. If you do not arrive on time, you will not be taking the quiz, and don’t forget your first paper is due tomorrow and I don’t accept late work. Every person in this room has plenty of opportunities to do well, so if you fail at this point it’s your own fault.”

The look the professor gave was pointed and more than a little unkind. The class all mumbled their understanding and Professor Washington waved them off.

“You’re dismissed. Make good choices.”

Palomo grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulders, trying to keep his head down and away from the pointed stare the professor gave. Had he done something wrong? Maybe he’d fallen asleep and that was why he thought he saw spines on that girl’s back.

Jensen grinned and slammed into Palomo’s arm.

“Wanna make out under the bleachers?”

“I think Professor Washington doesn’t like me.”

Jensen and Palomo both turned to look through the window and saw Professor Washington holding the textbook that Palomo really did mean to read out of in one hand, staring back at them.

Jensen shrugged and looped her arm through Palomo’s.

“Bah, forget him. Come on, kissy faces under the bleachers? Yes or no?”

As if it was ever going to be anything but yes.

They walked hand in hand out to the field before Jensen yanked out of his grip and took off running, giggling all the while.

They ran, chased each other around like puppies, and finally made it to the bleachers. They snuck under, laughing and bumping into one another, smiling all the while. He tucked himself into Jensen’s side and let her lead him to the center of the bleachers.

“You know, Charles, I do like you for more than just kissing and stuff.”

He grinned.

“Me too.”

“Good. I’m still really wanting to do kissing and stuff though.”

He took off his jacket and laid it out on the ground as gallantly as he could, grinning wider when she raised a confused eyebrow at him.

“What’s that for?”

He could feel his face heating horribly.

“Kissing and stuff? I figure…we could have a picnic under the bleachers?”

She pressed herself into his chest and curled her fingers into his hair. Their noses brushed.

“Someone might see us.”

“I figured that was part of the fun.”

Jensen gave Palomo a wicked smile and they moved together, lips brushing softly, working their way toward something more substantial when a loud clanging from above startled them apart. Palomo felt his heart race.

He looked through the slots in the bleachers, hoping to catch sight of a foot or a shadow so he’d at least know where it was coming from.

“Someone’s up there.”

Jensen pressed herself against his back and kissed the back of his neck.

“I thought that was part of the fun. Makes it exciting.”

He gave the bleachers a quick scan and didn’t see anything. If there was someone up there, they probably weren’t close or looking for anyone. It was fine.

Jensen tugged and turned him around, and they tangled together. Lips brushed and hands groped and it was as awkward and silly as they were.

She pulled him to the ground and laid back onto Palomo’s jacket, a wicked grin on her lips.

“Well?”

He pushed her shirt up a little, exposing her stomach, and pressed a soft kiss just above her belly button. Her legs tensed and wiggled under him.

“That tickles!”

“I know!”

They both giggled and Jensen started to unbuckle her belt.

A shadow passed overhead and something wet hit the back of his head. He jerked up and pressed his hand to it.

Blood.

There was blood on his hand.

“Shit!”

Jensen’s eyes went wide. She looked up at him wide eyed and vulnerable.

“There’s someone up there.”

Both of them could hardly tear their eyes away from the red smears on his hand.

“We…we should go.”

He stood and pulled her to her feet, more than ready to get away. Jensen grabbed Palomo’s jacket and they headed straight for her truck.

“Charles, are you…are you alright?”

He wiped the blood on his pants and tried not to think about it drying in his hair.

“Not really.”

It was a short day, so Katie drove him home to sleep and do his online coursework.

She kissed him goodbye as he got out of the truck, and he could taste the worry on her. He checked the back door and the front before he finally relaxed.

Locus wouldn’t be home until nearly six, he had hours before Palomo had to worry about anything aside from cleaning up. He went into the bathroom and scrubbed the blood off his hand. Jensen had seen it, but she wouldn’t mention it to Locus, so he was safe on that front. If she tried, she’d have to explain why they were making out under the bleachers while she was supposed to be working and he was supposed to be doing his homework.

A quick touch told him that there was still some in his hair. The blood had gotten matted and tacky, it made his head hurt just to think about it. He turned on the shower and stripped while he waited for the ancient water heater to work.

Palomo loved showers. They washed away all the pain and ugliness of the day and left a clean slate behind. He scrubbed at the mats in his hair, using more shampoo than was probably necessary, but he needed it to feel clean.

He closed his eyes and relaxed under the spray. It was weird, hell, it might not have actually even been blood. Maybe it was a slurpee that had too much syrup and not enough sugar in it. He was fine. Everything was fine.

_Felix laid a punch across his jaw._

Palomo jerked and shook his head, trying to toss the nightmare away.

_Felix dragged him down the stairs, each move bumping him harder and harder._

He picked up his body wash and scrubbed at his skin.

_Felix dragged him across the basement floor. The light from the window blinded him. He gripped the carpet with his nails, screaming the whole way._

He shuddered and turned off the spray. The shower wasn’t doing as much as he’d like to distract his brain. Palomo pulled the curtain, and reached for his towel, and saw that the door wasn’t closed anymore.

Didn’t…didn’t he lock that?

A voice floated through the crack.

“--- -- --- think it’s going? I don’t ----- -- suspects, but - ----- he’s -------- to catch on.”

Palomo dried off and slipped into his clothes, more worried than ever. He followed the one sided conversation into the hall and into the kitchen.

“We’ve gotten this far.”

It…sounded like it was coming from the basement.

“Hello? Is anybody down there?”

Nothing.

Palomo might have been hearing things, the nightmare and the evil slurpee had him all wigged out and not thinking straight. He was about to head back to the bathroom to finish drying off when a sob caught his attention. It sounded like Locus, but that man never cried.

Oh, no.

Palomo didn’t want to go down there. He _hated_ the basement. It was dark and creepy and he was pretty sure there were rats and dead things down there where he couldn’t see them.

Still, if Locus had come home and fallen or gotten hurt, he could die down there.

Palomo crept down the steps slowly, feeling his heart leap and spin with every creaky floorboard.

“Hello?”

The sob was softer this time.

“Dad? Are you in there?”

It was dark. The basement was always dim, but it was dark as a moonless night down there. He could see the vague shadows of old boxes and what he was pretty sure was Locus, standing in the dark. He was facing away from the stairs, staring at a blank wall.

It…had to be him. No one else had the key to the house…

“Why are you standing in the dark?”

He groped for the rope to turn on the pull light. The shadows played tricks and he could swear he saw screaming faces in the dark.

The light came on.

He gasped. It was Locus was standing there with his back to Palomo, staring at the work table covered in tools. He wasn’t sure why seeing his dad was so startling, but it scared the bejesus out of him.

“What were you doing down here in the dark?! Who were you talking to?”

“I lost something down here, I was just looking for it.”

Locus didn’t turn around. Didn’t smile or hug him or anything like that. Not that Locus was very affectionate normally, but this was an extra layer of dismissive and weird, and Palomo actively hated it.

The phone rang. There weren’t many people who called the landline, so it was either Locus’s work or one of Palomo’s friends. Locus didn’t move, didn’t even really seem to hear it.

“Dad?”

“I’m looking for something important. It’s gone.”

The phone rang again. Locus didn’t move.

Palomo went up the stairs and grabbed the phone off the cradle.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Jensen’s cheer flooded his ear, “Are you feeling better?”

Frankly, he felt like the world was going crazy and nothing was the way it was supposed to be, but that would only make her worry.

“I’m always feeling good when I’ve got my Katie on the line. What’s up?”

“Basketball tomorrow. Anders is gonna be there, but Bitters won’t give me a straight answer. Call him? I know he likes to play, so I’m not sure why he’s being so reluctant guy.”

“Hey, Katie, are…are you ok?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason, I guess.”

“Oh! Tell Bitters that he needs to give you a ride, then he’ll totally come! He likes to make you happy. He can even bring Matthews if Matthews wants to play.”

Locus eventually made his way out of the basement, late enough that Palomo was getting ready to start making phone calls asking for help. He seemed perfectly normal as he chewed through half a pepperoni by himself, but with all the weirdness of the day, it just felt off, like none of it was real.

He shook his head.

Get a grip, Palomo. You’re nineteen, you’re too old to get spooked by nightmares and weird slurpee juice. Palomo checked the doors and all the windows, but he could hardly sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the man who…who killed him.

Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Bitters swung by at ten in the morning with Matthews in tow and drove them all to the courts, pointedly not bitching about being roped into a day in the sun. Andersmith, Jensen, and Volleyball were already at the court, running around and bouncing a well-loved basketball between the three of them.

Palomo settled himself on one of the benches on the side of the court and pulled out his homework. He was going to get a good grade on that Dante paper if it killed him. He didn’t need to give Professor Washington any more reasons to dislike him.

Bitters plopped down next to him and pulled out his own work.

“You aren’t going to play?”

“Nah, Matthews is on the court, which means the view of his ass and arms is better from here. Washington kicking your ass?”

Palomo felt a twist of anxiety in his stomach as he went over the study questions. Hadn’t he already done this? Didn’t he have this filled out in class?

“He scares me, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. He treats me like I’m always screwing up, even when I’m not doing anything.”

“Well, he can’t hurt you, even if he can give you a bad grade.”

“I can’t afford a bad grade on this. I have to get this right or I’ll be dealing with the inferno forever!”

Palomo spent nearly the entire game highlighting and scribbling and marking before his brain couldn’t make sense of the stupid cantos anymore. Bitters was still staring intently at Matthews.

“So…Katie had a dream two nights ago.”

“Really? And that’s different from her normal sleep schedule, how?”

“I mean…”

Bitters hauled Palomo in and threw an arm over his shoulders.

“I’m just fucking with you. What’s Jensen dreaming about?”

“She…dreamed that you, me, and Andersmith were…having a three-way.”

Bitters laughed and roughed up Palomo’s hair.

“Nice, and where was my boyfriend?”

Did he tell Bitters that his boyfriend wasn’t invited because she wanted him to bone _her_ boyfriend?

“She didn’t say.”

“And where was she?”

“Watching.”

“Mmm, you better take care of that quick, dude. She’s starting to have fantasies about more than one guy at a time.”

“Hey! BITTERS!”

They looked up just in time to see Jensen and Matthews facing off.

“I’m about to teach your boy a lesson in humility!”

“I’d like to see you try!”

Bitters laughed again and ruffled Palomo’s hair again.

“So, Katie wants to get some D, ain’t nothing wrong with that. You want my advice? Get her laid and she’ll stop having sex dreams about other guys.”

“That’s not how sex dreams work!”

“Maybe not, but she’ll wind down a little bit.”

Jensen’s attempt failed to get into the basket and she let out a string of curse words. Bitters clapped his hands over Palomo’s ears.

“HEY!”

“Your virgin ears don’t need to learn those words.”

“I am _not_ a virgin!”

“I guess I should be congratulating Jensen then, huh?”

The four came off the court, dripping sweat and reaching for water bottles.

Bitters leaned forward and leered at Jensen as she wiped at her face with the bottom of her shirt.

“Nice dream, Jensen.”

She made an awkward croaking noise and looked at Palomo, betrayed.

“You told him?”

Matthews curled up in Bitters arms.

“What dream?”

Jensen grabbed Palomo’s arm, dragging him from the court as he tried to shove his work into his bag before it fell out and scattered.

“Katie!!”

“Bye guys!”

Once they were far enough away, she linked arms with Palomo. They loaded into the truck laughing as Jensen tried to rub her sweaty head on Palomo’s shirt.

She finally turned the key so they could leave.

Nothing.

“Ugh, again?”

He smiled.

“You need me to get out and push?”

Jensen frowned hard.

“No…no, I’ll show you what to do. You can’t keep pushing the truck, you’ll get hurt.”

“I’m not that weak.”

“Sure you aren’t, Charles.”

Jensen walked him through clutch starting a truck and ran around the back to push. Once the truck started moving, he looked out the back window. Jensen’s tools and tarp were all wadded up and she was shoving and grunting. He couldn’t help himself.

“Come on, Katie, put some butt into it.”

“Charles, urgh, just…”

He giggled and turned back around.

“So, what did Bitters say about my dream?”

He did _not_ want to think about that stupid dream, or about what Bitters said about her dream.

“He, thought it was funny.”

“Like, funny haha, or funny ‘that sounds like a good time’?”

He growled and squeezed the steering wheel.

“If you want to have sex with Bitters or something, I’m not stopping you.”

“Pop the clutch!”

Jensen let go of the truck, Palomo popped the clutch, and the truck started. She hopped into the cab and forced Palomo over with her hip.

“Charles, I don’t actually want to sleep with Antoine, and I certainly don’t want to cheat on you with our friends.”

She squeezed his hand and grinned, her braces glinted in the sunlight.

“But hey, if you really want me to, I’ll be more than happy to sleep with Bitters. Purely in an effort to convince him that a threesome with you and Andersmith is the way to go, of course.”

He shook his head and kissed her cheek.

“Sorry, Katie. I’m all ookie in my brain today.”

“It’s all good. I’ll take you home. You need a nap before work.”

“Dad’s gonna be mad at me for staying out this late on a work night.”

“ _But_ , at least you got some homework done!”

They passed the cornfield that gave Palomo indigestion every time he looked at it. The corn was long dead and left standing in the field, brown and lifeless. It was hard to imagine anything had ever grown there.

It seemed to stretch forever.

Something was moving, far enough away that it took a few seconds to see that it was a person standing in the back of the field. They were…moving, doing something. It…like of looked like he was shoveling.

The bright orange shirt they were wearing made him think back to his nightmare.

He slipped out of Jensen’s truck and rushed into the house, locking the door behind himself. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen and checked all the locks on the doors and windows, and everything looked the way it was supposed to.

He put the knife away and laid down, hoping to get a good nap in before Locus came home and woke him up for work.

_Palomo’s broken jaw bounced against the steps as Felix dragged him by his ankles to the basement._

_“This has been fun but...if you could just keel over and die already, that'd be great!”_

_“Jesus Christ, for once in your life, would you forget about following god damn orders!”_

“Charles? Wake up.”

He yawned and rolled out of bed. Just enough time for a quick wakeup shower. He should have felt a thousand times safer knowing that Locus was home and wandering around, doing whatever it was he did in his free time, but it just left him feeling uneasy.

The whole shower left him feeling anxious, like someone was outside waiting for him. Standing on the other side of the curtain, running their fingers down it, waiting to get him while he was at his most vulnerable.

Palomo yanked the curtain open.

No one.

“You’re losing it, Palomo. Get a grip.”

He dried off and went to the medicine cabinet. The fog obscured his face enough that it didn’t even look like him. It looked…

He wiped at the condensation, angry at himself and his stupid brain.

“You’re freaking out over nothing, Palomo, you’re fine. Katie’s fine. It was a bad dream, that’s all.”

He dressed and brushed his hair just in time for Locus to pay the delivery driver for dinner. Locus was always quiet, but this was worse than normal. It was pointed. Tense.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“I…are you ok?”

“Fine. Just distracted.”

He shook her head and smiled that smile that felt so ingenuine that Palomo didn’t know what to do with himself.

“I’m sorry, Charles, I don’t know where my head is at. Grab some plates.”

They dished up portions of orange chicken and fried rice and Palomo tried to joke about how the day went and for a while, everything was blissfully normal. Palomo didn’t feel the eyes on his back, he didn’t feel like he was going to crawl out of his skin, he just felt…normal.

Completely. Normal.

Dishes in the dishwasher and leftovers in the fridge, Palomo rushed off to put his actual work clothes on and get his backpack together so he could do his homework during the long, boring shift. He was GOING to get Dante’s Inferno if it killed him.

Locus met him at the door at 8:30 sharp and they slipped out to the car. The man was all dressed up, nice clothes, slightly impractical shoes, hair done up just a little more than he normally bothered with. He was trying, but also trying to look like he wasn’t trying that hard.

“You look nice. Hot date tonight?”

“Someone I met through work. We’re having drinks tonight.”

“Wait, really?”

“Do you think you can get yourself up in the morning and off to class on time?”

“I guess?”

Locus pulled into the station and parked the car.

“Have a good night, and be careful. This is not the kind of place that leave anyone feeling safe leaving a child overnight. They really should let you keep a gun or at least a taser or something.”

“I’ll be fine. Thanks. Have fun on your date!”

He dashed inside, managing to clock in exactly on time.

“Hey, Cunningham! Busy night?”

Cunningham snorted and pulled his drawer, letting Palomo slide the new one into place.

“Nah, place is dead.”

“Oh good. If I get my homework all done pretty quick I can get a nap in. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Don’t let the boss catch you, he said he might stop by later.”

“What’s he gonna do, fire me?”

“Yeah!”

“I wish. Have a good night!”

Palomo got as much of his homework done as he could manage. He played solitaire. He ate a stale donut from the display. He wiped the counters and mopped the floors. He straightened out the candy bars.

The boss didn’t show.

One in the morning passed and no drunks wandered in after closing time. The place would be empty until morning.

He laid his head down on the counter and closed his eyes.

_“What are you doing? You're supposed to kill them!”_

_“We're...partners. Survivors. We need each other. What about our orders? Our reward?! Becoming the ultimate weapon.”_

Charles blinked himself awake at the sound of a distant car horn. Was someone outside?

He looks to the cameras to check and see if someone was outside, but there was nothing. No lights showing someone driving, no one parked at the pumps or behind the building. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, nearly choking mid stretch. Felix was on one of the screens standing near the candy bars. As soon as Palomo got a good look at it, the man ducked out of sight behind the shelf.

He wasn’t about to wait. Palomo hit the silent alarm and reached for the baseball bat he totally wasn’t supposed to have. As soon as the weapon was in his hands he leaned over the counter and tried to get a glimpse of where Felix was hiding.

“Hey, whoever is in here, I’m pressing the alarm! The cops will be here any minute so you might as well run!”

Nothing. Not even the sound of shifting.

Palomo wasn’t just going to stand there and let the asshole carve him up, not this time. There was only one way around the counter and he was NOT going to get caught behind it. He came around and held the bat tight with both hands, ready to swing.

He moved slowly to where he was sure Felix was hiding. His heart pounded loud and fast in his ears, he was not going down without a fight.

He rounded the shelf.

Nothing.

He turned around.

Nothing.

Was…had he dreamed it?

A jabbing pain, and Palomo went flying onto the countertop where the coffee supplies were. Felix grinned down at him and wrapped his hands around Palomo’s throat.

“Miss me?”

He couldn’t get enough purchase to fight, just kept flailing and trying to scream. Felix grinned wider and added a little shake to his choking.

Palomo reached up with both hands and jabbed his thumbs into Felix’s eyes. The man grunted, but didn’t try to get away. Palomo dug deeper. Blood squirted out and covered his face and hands. He was sure he was going to die.

_“Then you can die with the rest of them.”_

The sound of police sirens filled the air and Felix let go of Palomo with a quick hand motion.

“Not yet. See you later, kid.”

Palomo rolled off the counter, gasping and clutching at his throat. He managed enough energy to run for the door.

Two police cars were by the pumps, lights flashing. He ran out and ended up in the arms of Sherriff Church while two officers went into the station, guns drawn.

“He’s in there! He was just there!”

“Shh, calm down, you’re ok.”

Palomo pointed to the station, hands shaking.

Something wasn’t right.

He looked at his hands…

There was no blood on them anymore. He felt his face and nothing came away.

“Wha?”

The officers cleared the gas station and grabbed the security tapes before locking up for the night for him and calling the owner. Palomo wasn’t going to be able to be by himself anymore that night. They drove down to the police station for a statement.

The sheriff went to look at the tapes while Palomo calmed down.

How was he going to explain this to Locus?

The officers took his statement quickly, but it was clear that they weren’t exactly taking any of this seriously. He felt like he’d been there for hours. The officers finally left the room and left Palomo to think about what was going on.

What _was_ going on?

Palomo winced as Sheriff Church passed him a mug of microwave cocoa and sat down at her desk. Her red hair made him think of blood.

He scrubbed his hands against his pant legs.

“Charles, can you tell me what this guy looked like?”

“He, uh, he’s…average height, I guess? Maybe a little on the short side? Skinny, brown hair, he had on nice jeans and a really nice orange shirt, and he said he worked at the salvage yard…”

The officers were in the room, giggling like a bunch of schoolboys.

“What?! What’s so funny?!”

“I hate to ask this, Charles, but you’re not taking anything are you?”

“What?”

“Drugs. Were you drinking? Anything like that?”

“NO!”

He could hear the others snickering behind him. Sheriff Church shot them a look that clearly said ‘shut up’.

“Look, no one is going to blame you for—“

“I AM NOT ON DRUGS! WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH THE MAN WHO ATTACKED ME?!”

She motioned the officers to bring over a television on a moving stand with a vcr player underneath.

The security footage from the station.

“I don’t understand. You have the camera footage, why…?”

“You need to watch this.”

“I don’t want to.”

She laid her hands out on the desk and stared Palomo dead in the eye.

“Charles, trust me. You need to watch this.”

The footage from the ancient camera was in black and white, but that didn’t matter, Palomo could describe the man’s outfit perfectly. He waited for Felix to come in, the part he didn’t see, because he was asleep.

“That’s you, right?”

His head was on top of his homework, more stupid Inferno.

“Yes.”

Were they going to make him watch the whole night?

“Sleeping.”

Felix had to show up soon, right?

Camera Palomo twitched, then jerked up into a sitting position. He looked spooked. Palomo waited for Felix to show up on the feed of the candy bars.

Only…he never came.

“That’s you waking up and hitting the panic button and grabbing something we’re not going to worry about tonight.”

Palomo’s hand reached under the counter and came out with the baseball bat.

“There you are walking across the store.”

She pointed to the screen, trying to hide a smile.

Camera Palomo suddenly jerked like he got hit. He fell backwards and flailed around like a fish on dry land.

“And there you are, getting into a fight with yourself.”

The officers burst into laughter.

“I don’t understand.”

“Charles, there was no one else there. You were alone tonight, for hours as far as we see.”

“But, I felt it! The man, he had brown hair, ok! He worked at the salvage yard and he had a funny name!”

“Felix?”

“You know him?”

Sheriff Church pulled a folder out of her desk and pulled out a color photograph.

“This man?”

It was him.

There, in glossy 5x7 was a smug yet oddly charming smile on the man’s face. Isaac “Felix” Gates, according to the open file.

“It’s him.”

“He was shot dead last week and everyone in this town seems to know that but you.”

“He’s…dead?”

She pulled out a bunch of crime scene photos. The man’s body was mangled and splattered, it didn’t look like a bullet wound. It looked like he was a pancake. Like he’d fallen off a cliff and landed straight on the ground.

“Dead and gone forever.”

But if he was dead, who attacked him?

Was it all really just a bad dream?

Palomo wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head.

“I’m losing my mind.”

Sheriff Church put the pictures back in the file and tucked it away.

“I don’t blame you for having nightmares about this man, a lot of people feel the same way. He terrorized the city for weeks, it’s been all over the news. They found part of some poor kid cut into pieces in the back of her own pickup truck, it’s not the kind of thing a teenager should be forced to worry about.”

She smiled gently, but frankly, it just made Palomo’s stomach twist up even more. He was gonna puke.

“Come on, Charles, I’ll take you home.”

He wanted to fight, to protest, but…they’d know, wouldn’t they? The camera couldn’t lie. If Sheriff Church said Felix was dead and gone, and the camera didn’t show him at all, it had to be true, didn’t it? They had to be right and he had to be wrong.

Sheriff Church got him settled in the back of her cop car and started driving.

“You look beat, kid. Get some rest, I’ll wake you up once we get you home, ok?”

He rubbed at his eyes. He’d left his backpack at the gas station and his dad was _not_ going to be happy. Neither was Professor Washington. Maybe Sheriff Church would write him a note for class.

“Thanks.”

He closed his eyes and rested his head against the glass.

_The salvage yard was quiet. Small. Jensen said that it was what small town yards looked like._

_She was halfway into an engine, parts all around her, hardly seeing anything but what she was working on._

_Felix got right up behind her with the axe before she even noticed._

_“You think you're smart?! You think you're all better than me?! Well you're not! You're all a bunch of pathetic, stupid, losers!”_

_He swung._

Palomo snapped awake. He was in the passenger seat of Jensen’s truck. The sun was shining. They were parked in the middle of the cornfield.

“What?”

There was a loud thud from the bed of the truck. Palomo spun around and saw Felix dump a tarp into the bed. A bright red shoe poked out.

Jensen’s red converse.

“NO!”

The man’s smile split his face in a Cheshire cat grin. Palomo grabbed the door handle, but it wouldn’t open. Felix slipped into the driver’s seat, leaned over Palomo, and delivered a few strong punches to the teen’s face.

He felt his nose break.

Felix started the truck and headed down the dirt road. Palomo could taste is own blood. Felix flipped through the music stations, passing country song after country song until he found deafening static.

Palomo couldn’t take it. He sobbed and yanked at the door, begging it to open.

“SHUT UP! Jesus, you whine like a little bitch!”

Felix pointed out the windshield.

“Let me guess, it’s that one, isn’t it?”

They pulled into the long driveway and Felix cut the engine.

“This isn’t happening, this isn’t real!”

“Well, now, how would you know what was real or not?”

Palomo yanked at the door.

“Look, you want me to tell you? Because this is bullshit, all of it, you me, everything. The only thing that’s real is what you feel.”

Felix grabbed Palomo’s shoulder and shook him.

“Charles, look at me. The only thing that’s real is what you feel. Say it, kiddo.”

Palomo sobbed and tried to kick at Felix, but the man pulled his knife and brought it just under Palomo’s chin.

“Say it.”

“The, the only thi-thing that’s real…”

“Is what you feel.”

He swallowed, feeling the knife slide against his Adam’s apple.

“Is what I feel.”

“When I cut your head off.”

Palomo howled and slammed into the door, knocking it loose. He tumbled out of the truck and dashed for the house, screaming.

He wasn’t going to get caught this time!

He ran straight for the back door and checked the lock, making sure Felix couldn’t get inside that way.

“Hey, dumbass. You forgot to lock the front first.”

Palomo sobbed and turned around just as a fist met his eye. He went down hard and Felix dropped to his knees, resting on top of Palomo’s chest.

Felix had that knife, that awful knife, in his hand.

“You don’t follow instructions well, do you. You don’t follow the rules, you do things you’re not supposed to. You’re a bad kid.”

Felix curled over and licked the blood off of Palomo’s mouth.

“Really, you were asking for this.”

He dragged Palomo down the stairs by his ankles, screaming the whole way. Palomo’s fingers couldn’t get a good enough grip to gain purchase, his broken face kept slamming into steps.

Felix hauled Palomo to the center of the basement and grinned like a madman as he stomped on Palomo’s throat and chest, leaving him choking and gasping.

“That’s better.”

Felix sat on Palomo’s chest, using his legs to box the teen’s arms in. With his free hand, he threaded his fingers through Palomo’s hair and yanked his head to the side.

“Hold still and this will hurt less. Well, probably not, but if you screw up my work, I’ll make it suck a LOT.”

“Please don’t hurt me this isn’t real this isn’t real this isn’t happening his isn’t happening no! no this isn’t happening no please god no please!

Felix put the knife to Palomo’s forehead and pressed down. Blood started to run through his hair onto the worn basement floor. He twisted the knife a little, slipping the blade under the separated skin and used the knife to get it to come off the skull in one full piece.

“Gotta make sure we get the eyelids too, or it’s just not a good mask.”

He dragged it, cutting away at Palomo’s face, peeling up as he went alone, ignoring the quiet, wheezing screams.

Palomo had never imagined pain like this.

Felix petted the side of Palomo’s face for a brief minute before he slipped his fingers into the loosened skin separated from his head and pulled.

“PLEASE GOD!”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Salvage (2019)

Chapter 3

Volleyball popped her gum and handed Palomo a cup of coffee as she danced around him to get to the second register and started to count herself in for the day.

“Crazy night?”

He couldn’t keep himself from shaking. The coffee fell from his hands and he took off running. He couldn’t be in the station when Felix showed up.

“Charles?!”

Volleyball called after him, but he was already running, where he wasn’t sure, but he knew he had to get away.

The sun rose bright and cheery, as if nothing at all was wrong with the world. Palomo knew better. His dreams were real, or real enough.

Somehow, Felix was haunting him, killing him in his dreams again and again.

He walked when he couldn’t run and found himself coming up to the long dead cornfield. The familiar rumble of Katie’s truck caught his attention and he threw himself behind a few trees, hoping to god that it was enough to hide him. The truck rolled past, and Palomo was certain that the driver was NOT Katie.

He needed answers. Who was Felix? Why was he doing this? How could they stop him?

Palomo stumbled.

_Felix watched the girl try to crawl away and scream for help. It was adorable that she thought anyone would be there to save her. She made it a good ten feet before Felix got bored and kicked her in the ribs. He was pretty sure he broke a few._

_It was that nice, meaty feeling that made him so happy._

_He stomped on her wrist and pinned it down with his weight._

_Part of him was tempted to hurt her in more…traditional ways, for the sake of it, but most of him just wanted to lop off bits of her and watch as she bled out. He raised the axe over her ankle and_

**_“Through me the way to the suffering city;_ ”**

He looked to the windows that ran along the hallway and saw Katie waiting.

_“ **Through me the everlasting pain;”**_

She grinned and started rocking side to side on the opposite side of the glass, taking off her jacket and dropping it to the floor as she moved.

**_“Through me the way that runs among the Lost.”_ **

She moved to her belt and started undoing the buckle, like she was going to drop her pants right there in the hall and show off her boxers to the world.

**_“Justice urged on my exalted Creator: Divine Power made me, The Supreme Wisdom and the Primal Love. Nothing was made before me but eternal things. And I endure eternally._ ”**

Professor Washington turned to write on the board.

**_“Abandon all hope - You Who Enter Here.”_ **

As he wrote the final ‘H’, the chalk filled the room with a deafening scratching noise.

Palomo raised his hand slowly, feeling himself shaking.

“Yes, Palomo?”

“You gave this lecture last time.”

Professor Washington set his book down on the podium and gave him his most unimpressed look.

“And how would you know what we covered? You weren’t here for the last lecture. You failed your quiz, Charles. At this rate, you’re going to fail your paper, too.”

He grabbed his jacket and burst through the door, running as fast as he could.

“Charles?!”

Jensen chased after him.

“Where are you going?! CHARLES! STOP!”

He fled down the hall, down the stairs, through the cafeteria and out the doors.   
Jensen’s truck was parked in the lot.

“NO!”

A hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him back. Palomo tried to fight it off, but he wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t fast enough.

“Charles! CHARLES! It’s me!”

Katie. It was Katie holding his wrist. He sobbed and pressed his face into her shoulder.

“Oh god.”

“Charles, what is going on? I went to your work and you weren’t there, I drove to your house and you weren’t there, Mr. Ortez is PISSED. How did you even get here on time?”

Palomo sobbed and squeezed her.

“Katie.”

Her hands were gentle, so gentle on his cheeks as she wiped away tears. She worked with cars every day, but she still had the gentlest hands of anyone he’d ever met.

“Ok, come on, let’s get somewhere private. Shh, you’re ok. Come on.”

She pushed him into the passenger seat of the truck and it mercifully started without trouble. He spent the entire trip trembling and fighting back tears. He could still feel the pain, the knife under his skin.

Jensen pulled over on a secluded back road, turned the truck off, and made him face her.

“Ok, now, talk. What’s going on?”

“Katie…I feel like I’m going crazy.”

She reached over and tangled their hands together.

“Well, you’re not crazy. You know I’m here to listen. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m seeing things, Katie.”

“Like what?”

“Like…this guy killing me.”

The moment the words came out, it was like a floodgate broke. He spilled everything, every dream, every sighting, every weird noise or weird thing that had happened.

“And it isn’t just seeing, I feel it too, it’s like it’s really happening to me. I keep seeing people and places and he’s hurting me and I think he hurt you, but Katie he tore my face off.”

Jensen pulled Palomo into a hug while he sobbed. He got her shoulder all snotty.

“The weird thing is, I saw a picture of the guy who keeps attacking me.”

She pulled some napkins out of the glove box and handed them to him to blow his nose.

“That’s the weird thing?”

“It’s weird, isn’t it? I saw a picture of the man after I imagined him. After I dreamed him. Maybe he’s a ghost. The sheriff said he was dead, but—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, when did you see the police about this?”

“I…”

Had that actually happened? It felt real, but so did everything else.

“I don’t remember.”

“Charles, this doesn’t make any sense.”

He felt his stomach drop.

“But that doesn’t mean that something isn’t happening. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

Palomo’s breath shuddered as squeezed her fingers.

“How?”

She turned back to the wheel and started up the truck.

“He’s a ghost, right? Well, if we’re dealing with a ghost, we need to go somewhere where people do ghost stuff.”

She drove them a good half hour out of town to the next town over. They pulled into the parking lot of a small church.

“Why are we here?”

Jensen squeezed Palomo’s hand and pointed to the building.

“This is the best place I can think of to ask questions like this. Who else knows about ghosts and souls and all that? You think you’re being haunted; wouldn’t a priest be able to help?”

Palomo shrugged.

Something about the church made Palomo super uncomfortable. Like he wasn’t supposed to be there, like he didn’t belong. His stomach twisted into knots. Maybe that was a good thing. If the ghost was making him see and feel things, maybe it was trying to scare him away from the church.

They got out of the truck and Palomo tucked himself against Jensen’s side, letting her wrap her arm around him. He felt so small, so insignificant. They walked into the main room.

“Hello?” Palomo called out.

They walked between the empty pews, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous room. The limp and lifeless form of Jesus on the cross stared at them.

At him.

“Is anybody here?”

Jensen grabbed Palomo’s hand and squeezed it.

“Maybe they’re at lunch?”

They approached the pulpit and looked up at Jesus. Palomo’s stomach twisted. He couldn’t remember the last time he was in a church, but he definitely remembered being a lot more welcome and comforted inside it.

“Can I help you?”

Palomo jumped and turned around, clutching his chest. A woman was above them on the upper balcony, bathed in cold light from the stained glass window, with only a silhouette visible.

“God, you scared me!”

The woman stepped out of the glare and Palomo saw that she was carrying a broom. She was wearing a tan dress with a crisp blue jacket, and she had the gentlest eyes Palomo had ever seen.

She was beautiful.

She looked kind.

Palomo didn’t trust her.

“Sorry, you two, didn’t mean to do that. If you’re here for bible study, it has been moved to Wednesday.”

Jensen rubbed Palomo’s arm.

“Oh, um we’re here to talk to a minister? Or a priest? Something like that.”

“The Reverend’s not on site today, I’m afraid. Reverend Doyle will be back on Wednesday for bible study.”

Jensen squeezed Palomo’s hand.

“Ask her,” She whispered.

“Her? But she’s a janitor or something.”

“She works in the church, that’s close enough, isn’t it?”

Palomo wasn’t sure if Jensen was making fun or not, but maybe she was right. The woman wasn’t in a uniform, so she probably wasn’t from a cleaning company. Maybe she really could help.

“Um…I don’t know if you can help me…I’m seeing ghosts. Well, A ghost. Isaac Gates.”

The woman’s face soured just a smidge.

“Felix? You’re sure?”

Jensen nodded.

“I haven’t seen him myself, but Charles has been seeing him, and he’s been having bad dreams and stuff.”

“Katie.”

Something clicked.

“Wait, you know him? You know his name?”

The woman leaned the broom against the wall and took a measured step forward to put her hands against the railing of the balcony.

“I did. He was an evil man. He had everyone around him fooled, even me. Even people who weren’t looking for the good in him didn’t think he was as evil as he was found to be. Countless bodies are tied to that man, and his cruelty and fevered joy at mercilessly slaughtering his way through children and adults alike will never be forgotten. Lives have been lost and destroyed because of him.”

Jensen tugged a little at her shirt, nervous.

“But he is dead, isn’t he?”

“He is. He had us all fooled with his gentle, encouraging words, his kindness to those under him. I suppose the devil works in mysterious ways too, hiding in plain sight.”

The woman smiled, softer this time, and twice as upsetting.

“You don’t have any need to worry about him, you two, that man cannot hurt anyone ever again.”

Jensen smiled and squeezed Palomo’s shoulder, as if all they needed was some strange woman’s say.

“Because he's dead, right?”

“Because he's in hell, and he’s never getting out.”

Palomo felt a chill run down his back.

“I need to go. We need to go.”

Jensen nodded.

“Thank you, Miss Kimball!”

“Always happy to help, Katherine.”

“Wait,” Palomo gripped Jensen’s fingers tight as he fought his fear to look up at the woman, “Do you know where he lived?”

They left the church and Palomo felt heavier and more afraid than he had before. Something about that woman sent him shaking and feeling sick. He hoped he’d never have to see her again.

Jensen was nervous about driving to them to Felix’s house, even if the man was dead, but she drove them all the same.

“Your dad’s going to be so much more than mad at us.”

They drove into the woods, following a twisting dirt road, surrounded by scraggly dead trees. The truck bounced along, and Palomo could feel the sick tension build in his gut. This was not a place they should be, it wasn’t a place _anyone_ should be.

Felix’s cabin was a glorified broken-down shack. The roof was in shambles, the side paneling was destroyed, and the screen door was off the hinges. There were empty cans of paint and solvents littered around. It looked like a garbage dump.

“Are we sure this is right? He didn’t seem like the kind of person to live in a place like this. He had nice clothes.”

Jensen shrugged.

“It’s where Miss Kimball said to go. It _looks_ like the kind of place a psychopathic serial killer would live.”

“Yeah, but he also didn’t make anyone think he was a crazy until he got caught. Did no one ever come to his house? I mean, if you know where he lives, shouldn’t this set off some warning bells?”

They both shared a look, and Palomo realized that they probably should have told someone where they were going. He pulled out his nokia to send Locus a message, but it didn’t have a signal.

“Well…we’re already here.”

They turn off the truck on a slight slope by the house and get out of the truck. Palomo went up to the window and looked inside. The place looked dark and dusty, with more garbage and busted furniture scattered around inside.

“The place looks deserted.”

Jensen wrapped her arms around herself and bounced a little.

“Well, I mean, if he’s dead that makes sense. I don’t like it here. Can we leave? Maybe we can come back later with weapons and our friends or the police or something?”

Palomo went to the door and reached for the handle.

“Charles!”

“What?”

“You can’t just go in there!”

“Why not? If he’s really dead, then there’s nothing here. I need to know more about what’s going on.”

“I have a bad feeling about this place, Charles. This was a bad idea.”

Palomo nodded.

“Ok, so how about this. I’ll go inside and you keep watch, ok? If you see anything, just scream and I’ll come out.”

“This is a stupid plan, Charles.”

He slipped through the unlocked door and headed straight for a disheveled and knocked over desk. The place was overflowing with torn open trash bags, the furniture was tacky and knocked over and gross. It looked like no one could have possibly lived there, Palomo didn’t even see a couch. Was there actually a bed somewhere?

He sighed. Nothing but gross wrappers and the smell of dead things and old cars.

Palomo moved to the one room off by itself, hoping maybe there was something in there that would be useful.

As he was rummaging, Palomo saw Felix passed by the window, carrying a shovel.

He ducked down and held his hand over his mouth. Had he been seen? He looked around, holding his breath, hoping for a weapon or something that he could use to defend himself when he heard it.

“CHARLES!!!”

Palomo ran for the door, heart in his throat.

Felix was whistling, standing at the back of Jensen’s truck with a blue tarp that he was cheerily wrapping around something. Palomo couldn’t see it, but that didn’t matter.

It couldn’t have been Katie.

Felix hopped into the truck, turned the key, and drove off wearing a cheer grin.

There was a phone inside the cabin, Palomo ran back in.

He snatched up the corded phone and pounded 911 on the buttons and waited.

“Hello?”

“I need to speak with Sheriff Church.”

“Speaking.”

“Sheriff, this is Charles Palomo, I’m at a cabin off of route 60, I need help, Felix was here, and I think he kidnapped Katie, he just drove off in her truck and I can’t find her and what if he hurts her? Please, I need help.”

“Calm down, Charles. Listen, I can’t tell you what’s going on, but you’re going to find out soon enough.”

The line went dead.

Charles slowly put the phone back into the cradle.

Did Sheriff Church think he was crazy?

He rubbed his hands on his jeans to get the feel of greasy, dusty plastic off his hands.

Was he going crazy?

Palomo left and started walking. It was miles and miles before he could get himself home, it would take all day he was sure.

He was almost there, just another half a block.

The road was eerily quiet, not a single car for miles.

Jensen’s truck was in his driveway. Dad’s car was nowhere in sight, and neither was Felix.

The blue tarp was still there.

Palomo crept over, his gut churned with anxiety. Any moment now, Felix might find him, but he had to know what was in the tarp.

He made it to the truck, Jensen’s tools were scattered around, there was a shovel…and the tarp wrapped around something big and bulky, just like his dream. He tugged at it, just a little, and lifted.

A soft, cheery whistle carried on the wind and Palomo ran.

He needed help. Answers. The church was no help, the cabin was the opposite of help, where could he go to find out what was happening?

The school.

He dreamed about the school a few times, maybe…maybe that was where he’d find something?

It was better than standing around at his house, waiting for Felix to cut his face off. Palomo rubbed at his forehead, feeling the phantom pain of Felix’s fingers separating his skin from his skull.

The school library wasn’t anything impressive, it was a small community college with not a whole lot of community, and it showed. Still, they had books and they had records of newspapers from all over the place scanned into the computer system somewhere.

Maybe, if he could figure out where Felix died, he could go there and…exorcise him or something. Palomo was running out of answers and running out of time. He was tired, and he knew that if he slept Felix would find him, and he might not survive another time.

He ran up the steps of the red brick building and dashed to the front desk.

Mr. Wu, the librarian, looked up at him with a less than impressed frown on his mouth.

“Can I help you or are you just here to cause chaos?”

“I,” Palomo blanked.

What was he doing in here again?

He needed. He needed to see.

“Microfilms?”

Mr. Wu’s frown only grew more intense.

“You want microfilms?”

“Yes sir. May I please look at the newspapers from the last…six months?”

Mr. Wu stood up slowly.

“You want to look at six months of newspapers in general? The UNSC Times? The Chorus Sun?”

Palomo wasn’t sure what paper he needed. Who would have what he was looking for?

“The local news.”

Mr. Wu led him to the microfilm computer and unlocked it.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Palomo sat down and started typing, searching for keywords as soon as Mr. Wu walked away. He knew it was here. Whatever it was that would explain why Isaac Gates was stalking him from beyond the grave was going to be here.

He needed to know the man’s deal, why he was after Palomo, why he might have hurt Jensen and stolen her truck keys to kill Palomo night after night in his dreams. He needed to do it fast, he could already feel the man’s presence, he was starting to hear the whistling in the back of his mind, the man’s cheerful taunts.

_“Because this is bullshit, kiddo. All of it. The only thing that’s real is what you feel. Say it, Charlie.”_

He managed to find the obituaries around the time of Felix’s death, but the man’s name wasn’t there. Maybe they’d kept it out of the papers? Or maybe it was something that was more like front page news and they didn’t want to put it in twice?

He clicked backwards, moving through the paper looking for anything that might indicate something about the man being shot.

If he could find it, he could…

The film clicked to the next screen, front page news, showing a picture of two happy teens curled around one another, smiling like they didn’t have a care in the world.

Jensen and Palomo.

_“Boy Still Missing, Family Fears Worst”_

_Charles Palomo, described by his friends and family as a cheerful, goofy, fun loving young man is still missing._

“No.”

_The mission portions of Katherine Jensen’s body were recovered from where it was dumped by the roadside, beaten and stripped naked, wrapped only in the blue tarp from her work truck._

“No!”

_Police are still searching for any sign of Charles Palomo or Katherine Jensen’s truck._

“NO! STOP IT!”

“SHH!”

Palomo raced out of the back room.

It wasn’t real.

It _wasn’t_ real! This was _WRONG_!

Katie.

He needed Katie.

Where was she? She wasn’t dead! This was a lie!

He must be dreaming. He must be in the middle of a nightmare. It wasn’t real. Jensen wasn’t dead and he wasn’t missing. It was a lie.

Mr. Wu looked up from his desk as Palomo raced past, disappointment clear in his voice.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

He managed to make it outside the building before falling to his knees and dry heaving. This was wrong, it was so wrong.

“Katie.”

He rubbed at his eyes.

“Please. Someone help me.”

He looked up and saw the cornfield, ominous and dead, where he was sure he’d seen Felix with that shovel.

No.

“No, I don’t want to see.”

He set off down the road.

He was shaking as he walked down the dirt path and veered into the dead stalks of corn. He could see where Felix had been digging in his mind’s eye. Right in front of him was a large patch of freshly dug earth among the untouched stalks. The tiniest patch of blue was there, mostly covered by the grey of the dirt. He fell to his knees.

Tears dripped down his cheeks and he sobbed as he scooped the dirt with his bare hands feeling shreds of dry stalks tear into his skin.

“It’s not real. It’s not real.”

The blue turned out to be a plastic garbage bag, buried deep. He tugged at the bag, tearing it open, and was immediately hit with a horrible smell, not unlike Felix’s cabin. The bag was sticky and damp inside.

He heaved.

Inside the bag was a skull, still partially covered with meat, and had several teeth knocked out. The eyes were gone, either plucked out or shriveled up or whatever happened to eyes after a person was long dead, but something was sticking out of the left socket.

“It’s not real. It’s not real.”

He reached down and plucked it up. A keychain attached to a flash drive.

His keychain.

Palomo sobbed and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his own flash drive and held them next to each other.

His paper was on the drive.

The familiar rumble of Jensen’s truck. He looked up and Felix was in the driver’s seat, watching him. The man revved the engine and Palomo took off running.

He slammed into Bitters front door hardly able to breathe. He banged on the frame as hard as he could and peered through the glass.

“Bitters! Bitters! Open up!”

Palomo nearly fell on his face when the door finally opened. Bitters caught him as he went down and hauled him inside.

“Oh my god, Palomo, what’s wrong?”

“Close the door! Please! Lock the door! Turn out the lights, we have to hide!”

Bitters shut the door and bolted it while Palomo collapsed onto the couch and tried to get warm. He was so cold, like his whole body was in an ice bath. Bitters wrapped his arms around Palomo’s shoulders and squeezed him.

“Hey, it’s ok. Come on, let’s go to my room, ok?”

Palomo could hardly keep his legs underneath him, they felt like they weren’t even there anymore, and Bitters nearly had to carry him the whole way to the bedroom. He dropped Palomo onto his bed.

“Wrap up in the blanket, I’m going to call the cops, ok?”

“NO, I already tried that and nothing happened! She just said that I was crazy, they’re not going to help us! Bitters, I don’t want to die!”

Bitters put his hands on either side of Palomo’s shoulders.

“Charles, listen to me. It’s going to be ok. You are my friend. I’m going to take care of this. I promise.”

He stood up and dropped his blanket onto Palomo’s lap.

“Get some rest.”

Bitters left the room.

Palomo couldn’t stop shaking. He reached for the blanket to pull it around his shoulders and realized he was still holding the gore covered keychain.

_“You're some of the galaxy's greatest soldiers!”_

He screamed.

Bitters was there and holding his shoulders, pulling him up from the ground. Palomo realized he was screaming and crying, his ears were ringing. When did he get onto the floor?

“Come on, calm down, it’s ok.”

Palomo shoved his face into Bitters shoulder.

“I’m so cold. Bitters, I feel like I’m going crazy. Nothing makes sense and nothing is right.”

Bitters was cold too. The world seemed dim and gray.

“Everything is going to be ok, I called the police. They’ll listen to me.”

Bitters wrapped Palomo in his blanket and stood up.

“I’m going to wait in the living room, ok? It won’t be much longer, just try to keep it together.”

“No, don’t leave me. Please, please don’t leave.”

“I need you to be strong, ok? It’s almost over.”

Palomo tugged the blanket tight around himself and rocked gently on the bed. Bitters wouldn’t get himself caught. Bitters was strong, fast, an athlete. Just because he was lazy didn’t mean he _couldn’t_ get away.

There was a knock, a gentle tap, and the door creaked open.

Palomo could hear speaking, but it was muffled. It sounded like Bitters greeted someone, but Palomo couldn’t really hear the other voice.

“I figured.”

Something muffled.

Palomo had a horrible feeling.

He moved carefully, trying to make sure the mattress didn’t squeak as he got up.

“---- ------- trouble, but ---- sure ----.”

“--- was he?”

“Mmm, you can see it in his eyes, he’s catching on. Figuring it out.”

Palomo put his head right up to the crack in the door and heard low laughter.

Laughter?

“Can I watch?”

He crept down the hall and peeked his head around the corner.

Bitters was standing at the door smiling at the person on the other side. He opened it wider and Felix stepped through.

“Sure, you can watch. Everyone will get their chance eventually.”

Palomo jerked back behind the corner and slapped his hands over his mouth.

Bitters was in on it?

Bitters was working with Felix?

He stepped back down the hall, trying to move as quietly as he could. He passed Bitters bedroom and turned the lock from the other side before he shut the door. Bitters door was more like a key lock that stayed in place, he hoped it would buy him a minute or two.

He slipped into Bitters parents’ room and locked that door as well before he went over to the window and undid the latch. It was stuck and didn’t like to move, but he made it work.

The doorknob started to rattle, and Palomo didn’t have any time to lose. He shoved the window open and threw himself out of it as Felix kicked the door in.

Palomo jumped to his feet and took off running to Jensen’s truck parked just outside the house. Bitters was still in the doorway, watching as Palomo jumped in and turned the key.

It wouldn’t start.

Felix stepped past Bitters and out the front door, holding the knife.

Palomo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He unlocked the emergency break and stepped on the clutch, letting the slope of the hill roll the truck forward.

“Come on,” he whispered to the faulty starter, “Please work. Come on.”

Palomo opened his eyes to Felix’s grin as the man jumped onto the hood of the quickly rolling truck. He moved across the hood and reached through the open window as Palomo desperately turned the key.

The slope was finally enough that the engine turned over and Palomo slammed his foot on the gas and threw the truck back and forth until Felix tumbled off the hood.

Palomo looked into the mirror and saw Felix standing on the side of the road, his knife in his hand.

He drove and kept driving, looking into the mirror to make sure that Felix wasn’t coming from behind. The radio turned itself on and Johnny Cash played for a few seconds before Palomo slammed his fist into it and silenced the music.

He didn’t know what to do.

The bed of the truck had tools in it, a shovel, and the bundled up blue tarp covering something big and awful.

“It’s not true.”

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

Palomo pulled the truck over on the side of the road and turned the engine off.

He got out and rounded the truck to the bed.

His heart was pounding.

He lifted the tarp.

Katie’s head, her foot, and part of what he thought was her arm came into immediate view. There was blood everywhere. Her milky eyes looked up accusingly.

She gasped.

Palomo screamed and threw the tarp back down.

“Charles!”

Locus’s voice.

He looked up, and the truck was parked in the driveway of his house.

“How?”

“Charles! I need you!”

He wanted to run.

“Charles!”

He took a breath and ran for the front door, dashing inside and slamming it closed behind him.

“Dad?”

His voice quavered.

“Charles! I need your help!”

Locus’s voice…it sounded like it was coming from the basement.

“Charles, come down to the basement! I need you!”

“Dad?”

“You have to come down to the basement, Charles.”

He was at the top of the stairs. His whole body felt heavy. Every inch of him hurt, like he’d fallen from somewhere high and shattered every bone in his body.

“No,” tears and snot dribbled down his face, “Please don’t make me go down there, dad, please.”

“CHARLES! COME DOWN HERE, RIGHT NOW!”

He took one step, then another. Palomo bit his arm, trying to keep from throwing up.

“COME DOWN HERE!”

He was afraid.

“Dad, please.”

His voice shook, he could hardly breathe.

“RIGHT! NOW!”

He made it to the bottom. His head spun, he could hardly see straight. Locus was standing in the middle of the room, facing the opposite wall.

“Dad?”

Palomo stumbled as he crossed the room, navigating around crates of weapons and armor, stained with blood.

“Dad, please hurry, we have to go. He’s coming.”

Palomo reached out to touch Locus’s shoulder, and the man was suddenly facing him. His face was blank, lacking the life and warmth of a father’s love.

“You can’t get out of here.”

Locus grabbed Palomo’s wrists and squeezed.

“Don’t you get it, yet?”

He squeezed, grinding the bones of Palomo’s thin wrists together.

“You have to pay for your crimes.”

Locus forced Palomo to turn around, his arms held behind his back in a punishing grip just in time to see Felix swagger down the stairs whistling. He smiled and waved at Palomo with his knife.

“Again.”

Felix ran his fingers across one of the crates.

“And again.”

He ran his knife across one, letting the metal scream as they scraped.

“And again.”

“But why?! I didn’t do anything, Dad, I swear!”

Locus shoved Palomo to his knees and grabbed him by the hair.

“Stop calling me that, you’re not my son.”

Locus stepped on Palomo’s ankle and held it under his weight while Felix grinned and waggled his knife right in front of Palomo’s nose.

“YES, I AM! I’M CHARLES! I’M CHARLES!”

Felix leaned over and shook his head.

“You aren’t Charles Palomo, Locus isn’t your father, or his for that matter, and this is the most pathetic scenario you’ve come up with yet.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Felix knelt down in front of Palomo and put a hand on his cheek.

“You want me to tell you a secret?”

_Our soldiers are young and scared._

“Because all of this is bullshit, you know? You, me, all of it.”

**_Because he’s dead?_ **

**_Because he’s in hell._ **

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!”

**_Abandon all hope, ye who enter here._ **

“The only thing that’s real,” Felix said as he sliced into Palomo’s face, “is what you feel.”

Felix watched in horror as the killer with the knife stood up. The basement faded into darkness and hundreds of shadowy figures watched over him as far as he could see and beyond. He could feel their rage, their pain, their fear. The living screamed in deafening silence, the rage of the dead was so thick it choked him.

“Please, I don’t deserve this.”

Felix wiped at the blood on the blade.

“Really? Of anyone else in the galaxy, we deserve this. We’re going to learn our lesson, Felix, and pay for what we’ve done.”

Felix screamed and sobbed as Locus held him still while the other Felix stuck the tip of the knife into his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Salvage (2019)

Chapter 4

Volleyball popped her gum and handed Palomo a cup of coffee as she danced around him to get to the second register and started to count herself in for the day.

“Crazy night?”


	5. Author's Notes

Salvage (2018)

Author's Notes

I love horror movies. Horror is my favorite genre of fiction, be it books, tv, movies, music, art. It's just my absolute fave, and I often try to retell the stories to myself with different characters just to see how they turn out in my head, which is why I'm surprised it took me so long to decide to try and adapt some of my favorite movies to fanfiction and see how they turn out.

This is probably the strangest piece I've ever tried to work on, and I'm baffled both at how long it took and how it came out. 

Salvage (2006) is a favorite of mine. It's not what I would call a _good_ movie, but I definitely consider it enjoyable, and during a rewatch at the end of 2018 I wondered just how it would hold up in my brain if I replaced the characters from the movie with characters from Red vs Blue. It turns out that I liked it a lot, whether or not you find you liked how it turned out.

Felix taking the role of the serial killer Duke Desmond made a great deal of sense in my brain, but it was definitely the other characters that gave me the most trouble. Originally, I had intended for Jensen to take the lead role as the replacement for Claire, but I found myself falling into some of the pitfalls that the movie does in overly sexualizing the main character for no real purpose to the actual plot, and I decided that I wanted to see how it held up with a male protagonist. 

Enter Palomo.

Nearly up to the posting, there were changes being made to the character roster. Kimball and Doyle fought for the position of god, while Kimball and Carolina fought for the role of Sheriff, and Kimball and Locus fought for the role of parent. 

Kimball was in every role except the lead at one point, because this woman is so versatile it's frustrating.

I don't entirely know if the surreal nature of this film holds up when I put it on paper. I know that some of it is just how I write, but much of it is actually the way the film is designed. I'd wanted to flesh it out a bit, but what I found was that the more I tried, the less true it held to the original story and the less it made sense when the ending came and the realization of Felix suffering torment in hell as Palomo. It cheapened the story, in my opinion, which is why the rest of the horror movies I'm going to work on will hopefully be stronger choices that are a little less dependent on the wonky imagery that works a lot better on camera than on paper.

 

February's Horror Adaptation

American Mary


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